


Heaven Tonight

by fatallywhimsical



Category: The Wicked + The Divine
Genre: Crack, M/M, at least that's how it was intended, i don't even know what to call this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2019-01-15 14:22:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12322740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fatallywhimsical/pseuds/fatallywhimsical
Summary: With love on the line, it's now or never. Why can't the night last forever?





	Heaven Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> A Baphomet/Inanna one-shot fic. This was intended to be crack but ended up more like a terribly written romance novel. I mean, yikes. Vaguely inspired by Rough and Ready by Sandra Hill and only a teeny bit plagiarized, but I crossed those lines out so I'm pretty sure it doesn't count. Title taken from the song by Yngwie Malmsteen, though it has little or nothing to do with the content of this fic. 
> 
> This entire thing was inspired by Baphomet's facial expression in that one particular panel (you know the one) after he tries to kill Inanna and my initial interpretation was “obviously these two have fucked.” Maybe I'm wrong, but until it's proven otherwise, who's to say this isn't canon?

Baphomet hung around the backstage area following one of Inanna's shows. This wasn't normally his type of scene—for one thing, everything was far too colorful, and there weren't nearly enough skulls. The whole place was terribly UnGoth, if he was honest, but the show had involved some pyrotechnics at least so it hadn't been a complete waste of time.

 

If he was completely honest, which he almost never was, he was really there to see Inanna perform. Something about Inanna was so intriguing, and supposedly he was one of the best performers. Baphomet didn't typically attend other gods' performances, so he could not verify this claim, but he did know that for the entirety of the show he had been unable to take his eyes off the enchanting god on stage.

 

While he waited, he wondered briefly why he was there. To meet Inanna? Like any of the other dozens of fans milling about? The whole idea suddenly seemed stupid, but then, it couldn't be too weird just to say 'Hello.' They were members of the same pantheon, after all. The fact that they hadn't met previously was largely due to the fact that Baphomet usually kept to the Underground along with the Morrigan. They didn't feel they particularly fit in with the others, and the cold darkness of the tunnels seemed to suit them better, anyway. Baphomet, his pre-god-self included, had always been rather shit at making friends, so he was used to spending time alone.

 

He tried to imagine what this scene would look like to someone who didn't know what an absolute dork he really was, and he told himself that it _must_ look like a couple of gods, hanging out, perhaps having a drink—completely normal. There was nothing lame or pathetic about this at all. If he had much more time to ponder this, he might have lost his nerve and gone home, but at that moment Inanna appeared.

 

Baphomet was briefly taken aback at the sight of him, equal parts beautiful and handsome, his every movement somehow effortlessly graceful. _Normal people, even the other gods don't move like that,_ he thought. _I probably look like a blundering idiot next to him._ Self-deprecation aside, this would not have been untrue. He was glad he'd chosen to wear his sunglasses, despite it being indoors at night, as they helped maintain his cool demeanor while he tried to reset his face into something resembling composure.

 

Before he had a chance to decide on a clever opening line, Inanna made eye contact with him and smiled in a way that made Baphomet's knees go wobbly. _What is wrong with me tonight?_ He wondered if it was something he'd eaten. He quickly changed his plan from approaching Inanna to leaning coolly against the wall, James Dean-style, lest his knees give way and he make an even bigger fool of himself than he was used to.

 

As he steadied himself, Inanna glided in his direction, a swirl of purple and glitter. He realized it was far too late to run, so instead he began, “Hello, I'm—”

 

“Baphomet? I know you.”

 

“You do?” Baphomet tried not to show his genuine surprise, and failed. He could hear that his voice sounded higher than normal and mentally kicked himself.

 

“Well, I've heard of you, anyway. Did you really come here just to see me?”

 

Baphomet shrugged, pleased with himself for regaining some measure of aloofness. “I was just nearby, is all. Wanted to see what the hype was about.”

 

Inanna smirked, “Was it everything you expected?”

 

 _And more_ , Baphomet thought, but aloud he just said, “Yeah, it was alright.”

 

Inanna actually laughed at this. “That's good, then!” He paused. “It's wonderful to finally meet you, by the way.” He held out his hand for Baphomet to take, and one again Baphomet was glad to be able to hide behind his sunglasses. Inanna's gaze actually felt _intoxicating_ in a way he was not accustomed to. He took Inanna's hand to shake it, but Inanna gently pulled his hand upward, giving it the softest kiss and maintaining eye contact all the while. To his surprise and horror, Baphomet realized he was blushing. His reputation as The Most Goth was actually crumbling before his eyes.

 

 _Oh no_ , he thought. _This is bad. Abort Mission. I've got to get out of here._

 

“If you haven't got any other plans for the evening, I'd love for you to have a drink with me,” Inanna offered, raising his eyebrows hopefully.

 

“Ok,” Baphomet replied dully. It was all he could manage.

 

Inanna lead Baphomet down a corridor to a room which seemed innocuous from the outside but once entered was quite opulent. It had been made into a temporary dressing room, draped in shimmering colorful fabrics and had a faint smell of perfume or incense. There was a plush sofa off to one side, upon which sat many decorative pillows. A lighted vanity mirror was taped with photographs of various people, some of whom Baphomet recognized as other members of the Pantheon; some were unknown. Additionally, there was a small table that held several ornate-looking bottles which presumably held liquor of some type, though they were unfamiliar—the expensive kind, probably, as well as a pitcher full of water and a few empty glasses.

 

Baphomet felt very out of place here, but tried not to let on that this was the case. He willed himself not to say anything stupid. “Is this your dressing room or a brothel?” _Oops._

 

Inanna wasn't sure if this was meant to be funny but he laughed anyway. “A bit of both, I guess you could say.” He smirked in a way that Baphomet might have interpreted as flirtation, had he been capable of processing anything at that moment. “Though I'd never charge for the pleasure of my company,” he added with a distinctly mischievous tone.

 

 _He's flirting with me??_ Baphomet thought. _No, that's ridiculous. Ok, he probably is. No, definitely. Fucking hell, I'm in over my head here._

 

He realized he must have been awkwardly quiet for some amount of time when Inanna gestured for him to sit down and asked if he'd like something to drink. He desperately wanted a glass of water, but instead he just grunted, “Er, whiskey. Neat.” He knew he didn't need to drink but he had a reputation to uphold, after all.

 

He sat as he was instructed, moving a few of the pillows aside. Inanna poured about two fingers of whiskey into a glass and handed it to Baphomet before mixing himself something more colorful. He sat down next to Baphomet, very close but not quite touching him. Baphomet found this to be oddly soothing rather than uncomfortable, though he still did not touch his drink. Inanna's presence might have actually been relaxing under other circumstances, but at this moment Baphomet was intensely aware of the beating of his own heart. He tried to concentrate on keeping his breathing steady. It was stupid, really, how nervous he felt. What did he have to be nervous for?

 

Inanna stretched, graceful as ever, and let his arm rest on the sofa above Baphomet's shoulders. Unlike Baphomet, he seemed completely at ease with the situation. “Were you going to take off your sunglasses? I doubt you'll need them in here.”

 

His sunglasses were his last remaining defense against Inanna’s charms, but he figured it would be weird if he persisted to wear them now that the subject had been raised. He reluctantly removed them, hoping to appear more seductive than fearful. He finished the reveal with a toss of his longish dark hair and a smile, which gave Inanna a glimpse of his sharp canines. “Better?”

 

“Very much. I thought you might want to be comfortable. We’ve got the whole night ahead of us. Unless you planned on leaving soon…?”

 

“Of course not,” Baphomet replied. His usual cache of what he considered “witty banter” was disturbingly low, so he quickly scanned his brain for something with which to fill the silence. “Premature guys are the worst.”

 

Inanna openly laughed at this, not that it was particularly clever, but he knew all too well the double-meaning of that phrase, as he tended to have quite an effect on people. Baphomet actually had very little experience in that department with other guys, but for Inanna, he was willing to make an exception. Besides, Inanna had a quality about him that seemed to transcend the traditional concept of the gender binary. Somehow, he was more beautiful than any woman Baphomet had ever seen, yet still more handsome than any man (apart from perhaps Baphomet himself, though his opinion was rather biased).

 

“Baphomet,” Inanna began once he stopped laughing. “Were you being honest earlier, when I asked why you came to see me?”

 

“Absolutely,” He lied, lingering a bit too long on the first syllable, apparently incapable of telling the truth or knowing when it was contextually appropriate to make terrible puns.

 

Inanna set his drink on the nearby table, sighing and feigning disappointment. He didn't believe Baphomet, but he did believe in his own ability to extract the truth from others purely by using his own sex appeal. “Oh. Alright, then.”

 

Baphomet scoffed in an attempt to seem more believable. “What other reasons would I have?”

 

Inanna settled back onto the sofa, discretely letting his hand come to rest just above Baphomet's knee. “I just thought, maybe, you wanted to know what it would be like to be with the Queen of Heaven.” He smiled in a way that made Baphomet's heart resume racing, though he was determined not to show it. Instead, he smirked, his eyes reflecting the room's soft lighting like a cat's.

 

“Is that an offer?” His lips parted slightly as he smiled, showing his teeth once again.

 

“Only if you want it to be,” Inanna purred.

 

Baphomet held back for a moment. He was pretty sure he wanted this. Still, he was nervous about his lack of experience. Oh, and the fact that he had a girlfriend who would certainly be upset with him if she found out. _If she finds out._ He decided this opportunity was worth the risk, and he was determined not to let Inanna find out the reasons for his apprehension.

 

With as much confidence as he could muster, he replied, “What did you have in mind?”

 

Inanna looked thoughtful for only a second before responding, “Nearly anything we can think of.”

 

Before Baphomet could respond with another terrible pun, Inanna seized the opportunity to kiss him. With the hand that had been resting above Baphomet's shoulders, he traced the other god's strong jawline, gently pulling him close with his fingers under his chin and pressing their lips together.

 

To his dismay, Baphomet heard himself let out an audible sigh after a few seconds of kissing. It was almost a _moan_. Inanna was an amazing kisser. He was afraid he might be blushing again so he decided the best way to deter Inanna from seeing this was to commit to this make-out session 110% and jam his tongue between Inanna's slightly parted lips. Thankfully, Inanna was receptive to this and actually seemed to enjoy it, letting out a sigh of his own. All the while, Inanna's hand that had been resting over Baphomet's knee was inching steadily upward.

 

 _Oh no, he's really good at this_. Baphomet was feeling equal parts pleasure and panic, and he was almost certain his heart was beating so hard that Inanna must be able to feel it through his chest. If his hand continued its course, it would soon not be the only hard thing Inanna felt on him.

 

Thankfully, his hand stopped just short of his groin area. He pulled back slightly, gazing into Baphomet's eyes again. Baphomet was secretly glad to be sitting, otherwise his knees definitely would have given way this time. Inanna pulled himself onto his own knees, climbing onto Baphomet's lap and straddling him. Baphomet was slightly relieved to see Inanna's chest rising and falling more rapidly, indicating that he was not the only one affected. He opened his mouth to speak but Inanna placed a finger on his lips. He paused for a moment then began to trace them gently. Slowly, he trailed his finger downward, over Baphomet's collar bones, down the middle of his chest, slowing as it passed over his well-defined abs and coming to rest in the narrow strip of hair that lead from his navel and into his jeans. “I can't _wait_ to see where this leads.”

 

Baphomet was genuinely worried he might suffer a heart attack at this point ( ~~or maybe... a dick-attack~~ ), but once again, Inanna was only teasing him and he leaned down to pick up where they'd left off. It was only now Baphomet realized that perhaps his most recent lover would like to be touched too, although he wasn't sure exactly where to start. _Should I... Should I just go straight for his crotch? That seems a bit forward._ He found it difficult to focus as Inanna was a distractingly good kisser, but he figured it was safe enough to rest his hands on Inanna's waist for now.

 

That turned out to be either the best or worst decision he could have made, though he could not decide which through the fog which filled his brain. All he knew was that Inanna apparently took this as an invitation to begin grinding against his crotch and immediately he was filled with a unique mix of lust and terror. It felt _amazing_ but the realization that this was really happening coupled with the fact that Inanna was very likely much more well-endowed than he was enough to ring some sort of alarm bell deep within his subconscious. He chose to ignore it, however, as he often did whenever good judgment was needed and this proved to be a mistake.

 

He was breathing heavily at this point, his heart pounding, his pants distressingly tight, and soon Inanna's rhythmic grinding became quite suddenly too much. Baphomet had been so lost in the pleasure and excitement of this latest affair that by the time he realized what was happening, it was too late. It was incredible how quickly exhilaration and bliss turned to hot shame and embarrassment, but there was no time to reflect upon this. He stifled the noise he made by pretending to go into a coughing fit. Inanna stopped, his face full of concern. _Maybe he didn't notice?!_

 

“Is—is everything alright?” Inanna did not seem disappointed at having to stop, only genuinely worried.

 

Baphomet practically threw Inanna off as he made to stand up, frantically grabbing for his sunglasses. “I just realized! I—” He panicked. Normally he might have had a million excuses ready, but he was quite taken aback by this turn of events. This sort of thing _never_ happened to him ( ~~it most certainly did~~ ). He stammered out the first thought that he could manage, which was “I just remembered! I, I've got to return somevideotapesSORRY!” He scrambled for the door and was gone ~~, the sound of galloping abs fading into the distance~~.

 

Inanna found the unexpected climax (pun ab-solutely intended) rather jarring, but he wasn't terribly bothered by it—only quietly amused. He would just have to find a different companion for the evening.

 


End file.
